I'm a woman

I don't know what makes a writer...but it certainly isn't happiness.

There comes a point in every woman's life when you realise that until you are completely satisfied with yourself, you will never be enough for anyone else.

No matter how hard you try.

This truth is unbearably painful. I write this with a broken heart and shaking hands from the tears I'm holding back.
I don't know if it is being a woman, a career woman who foolishly dares to dream about one day being a wife and mom, I don't know if it is the price a girl pays for not growing up soon enough, or too soon, that causes so much self-loathing and regret.
You look in the mirror and see a mistake, a fool who dares to believe she is wanted and makes a real difference.

Relationships are weird.
You can read as many books as you want, go to as many seminars about these weird, horrible essential parts of our lives but you will never get it. You will never know how to be the perfect mom to your teenage daughters, the perfect colleague to that stuck up photographer at work, the perfect daughter to your aging mom, the perfect friend, or even the perfect girlfriend. It sucks.
But you try anyway. You go out of your way, bend over backwards, deprive yourself of sleep and food so you can be there when they need you. You try anyway. You know you are not perfect. You are not blind to the looks of disappointment on their faces when you mess up. You are not blind to the long drawn breaths and heavy sighs of despair when you open your mouth to say something. You are not numb to the fact that you might just be a burden to them.
Does it hurt? Of course.
So you try harder. You exhaust yourself. You serve on your knees until they bleed, just to see them smile. No one knows this. No one sees your sacrifice and your tears. They see you, yes. Oh yes they see you. They see the useless fool. They see the lazy good-for-nothing. That they can't miss. No one misses that.

You feel alone, you feel unwanted but the world has thrust you into this never-ending spiral of rejection and neglect.

You want to keep trying, you want to let them see that you are not all bad, that you can be normal like everyone else but your very presence is clearly a problem. However, you keep trying. It hurts. Your knees cant crawl any further, your heart is dead to the hurt. The tears have dug trenches on your face. Smiling hurts but you do it anyway. No one can see how broken you really are. How incomplete they have made you feel. No one can know. Never!

So you tie your hair back and paint your fingernails. Your are a woman, they tell you. You are stronger than this, they say.
They don't even know what they are talking about. They know your name, not your story. No one cares how you feel inside. Why should they? You are a woman, aren't you?

You want to love. You want to feel the love that you so openly and freely give out. You want to know how it is on the receiving end. How can you when no one wants you? When no one feels you are good enough? How can you when the cause of your smile is the same one who caused the tears? How do you do your best when you know your best wasn't, isn't and never will be good enough?

I'm a woman, I guess. I am strong. I've been for all my life..

Just because I am a soldier doesn't mean I deserve to be put through war.

I'm a woman. I will survive. I will love me.

I'd like you to see me, the real me, but its okay if you don't. I have enough love for the both of us.